Nightcap
by KathSon-NinLock
Summary: Tony is having nightmares, but refuses to tell anyone what they're about. All Steve knows is that his name is the one Tony whimpers into the dark. Written as a RP. SLASH - Rating may go up in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: And here is the start of our first Avengers RP fic. **____**Each Chp will be spilt in two – the first half is written by Ninotsjka1992 as Steve and the second half will be written by High-FunctioningGinger as Tony.**_

_**Steve**_

Steve is awake.

At first, he has no idea why he's awake at - a quick glance towards his alarm clock - 3:44 in the morning, but then he realizes that something woke him up. A noise, to be exact.

Steve's senses are alert almost immediately. Without making a sound, he slips out of bed, straining his ears as to pick it up again. It did not sound familiar, yet it couldn't have been an intruder or anything dangerous or JARVIS would have woken him and all the other Avengers immediately. He treads over to his door carefully, sliding it open and stepping into the dark hallway, still listening carefully.

There it is again! By now he's recognized the sound for what it is - a whimper, to be exact - and he tries to determine where it's coming from. When he hears it again, he follows it immediately, taking care as to stay as silent as possible. He does not want to wake anyone else.

The sound is coming from the living room. Steve frowns. He's pretty sure all his team mates went to bed earlier this evening. They were all knackered after today's training and meetings with SHIELD, especially Tony, who hasn't slept in a couple of days and has been cranky for most of the time.

The blond steps into the room and spots the source of the sound almost immediately. The faint blue glow is all he needs to identify the person who's currently sprawling on one of the sofa's, one long leg dangling over the armrest and the other one resting on the ground. Tony seems fast asleep, murmuring and twitching at what seems to be a very intense dream.

Even from where he's standing, Steve can see how worn Tony is. The bags under his eyes are larger than usual, his hair is greasy - Steve knows Tony forgets to shower when he goes without sleep for long periods of time - and his black sleeveless top is stained. Steve stares at his teammate, who is still thrashing in his sleep, and wonders why the man doesn't take better care of himself.

Just then, the brunet lets out another whimper, this one louder than the previous ones. His expression, which was kind of neutral up till now, twists into something vaguely resembling anxiety and he thrashes more violently than before. Steve lingers in the doorway, unsure of what to do, when Tony suddenly let out another sound. This time, however, it's clear what the man is saying.

Tony says Steve's name.

The blond doesn't hesitate any longer. He steps away from the doorway, making his way over to Tony, who is now his arms as if fending off something or someone, his moans and whimpers getting louder and more desperate. When Steve reaches him, he hovers for a moment, before grabbing Tony's arm and shaking gently.

"Tony, hey."

The brunet does not respond, but continues moving, so Steve tries again. "Tony, wake up, you're dreaming."

He hears the anxiety in his voice, but he does not pay attention to it. Tony is more important right now; even though they are not really friends, they are teammates, and Steve, as their leader, cares for his team. He shakes Tony again, still not getting a response. The brunet is in clear distress now, mumbling and shaking his head, thrashing around violently and Steve has to duck in order to avoid his flailing arms, before he manages to grab both of Tony's shoulders and shakes him more thoroughly, desperate to pull him out of his nightmare.

"Tony, wake up!" he almost yells. And with a shuddering gasp, Tony does.

_**Tony**_

"Evening, Mr. Stark." the words, which seem so benign are spoken by a slim blonde woman with a sneer. As Tony slowly comes to, he realizes he's tied to a chair. A metal chair. No, wait, not tied, _handcuffed_, he realizes as he tries to squirm from his bonds.

"Look, if you wanted to tie me up, there are easier ways of doing so." he quips, as he looks the blonde woman over, and the two burly companions that he's just noticed.

This earns him a sharp blow across the jaw and he swears under his breath at the throbbing pain. "Cute, Mr. Stark. But I don't mix business with pleasure. And this is all about business. _Your_ business to be more specific."

And then it dawns on Tony that he's been taken captive for interrogation. He racks his memory, trying to recall where he'd been, how it all happened, but he drew a blank. Strange for him, he usually has excellent memory.

"You're wasting your time. I mean ten points for effort and all, but I'm not going to tell you anything." he responds with a casual shrug.

"No?" the woman questioned, producing a pistol and leveling it at his head.

Tony snorts. "You're not going to shoot me. You need me and you damn well know it." he snaps and the gun is lowered.

"True." she concedes. "But we have other ways, Mr. Stark. Terrible ways."

"I saved New York from an alien invasion and camp out with two assassins and a raging green monster. I'm sure I'll manage." he responds with a smile, which earns him a harsh blow across the cheek with the butt of the pistol.

"Can you really?" she asks, and produces a Taser. Tony's about to sneer out another slight when she presses it to his chest-piece and his world goes white.

Pure, blinding pain rips through his body at electricity jolts through his muscles and nerves. Sharp, crawling agony, eating at him like white-hot knives and though he tries desperately not to scream, whimpers escape him.

_"Oh god, save me. Somebody save me."_ the thought echoes through his mind somewhere beyond the intense pain and the image of Steve suiting up comes to him suddenly.

"Steve, help" he manages to gaps between his whimpers, though he knows it will do no good.

"Steve,_ please_" he whimpers, straining desperately in his bonds.

But suddenly Steve's voice is there beside him, blocking out the pain "Tony, hey."

It fades into the white pain, then comes through again, louder this time "Tony, wake up!"

Wake up? With a jolt Tony's mind sorts itself out and he realizes it's a dream, simultaneously awakening.

Sweat beads on his forehead and his breath comes in ragged breaths. He closes his eyes, wincing at the images still burning in it, and then realizes a soft hand is resting on his shoulder and someone is speaking to him.

"Tony? You alright?" It's Steve, murmuring in concern. "Tony, hey, you were having just a nightmare." he reassures.

Tony gives a laugh that sounds more like a cough and says "Ah, I forgot. You're Captain Obvious now too." he quips, trying for a smile as he turns to face Steve.

Seeming to realize their proximity isn't entirely appropriate Steve sits back with a blush and removes his hand. Tony misses the warm firmness of his grip and the comforting grasp on reality it offered.

"What were you dreaming about? You seemed pretty upset." Steve inquires.

Tony shrugs without hesitation and lies with a casual smile "Don't remember. Probably about someone breaking my new coffee machine." he jokes easily.

Steve chews his lip for a moment, wondering if he should press the issue as to why Tony said his name of all people. But Tony doesn't give him a chance.

He stands quickly and saunters from the living room calling "Night, Cap" over his shoulder.

Tony doesn't sleep when he reaches his room. He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling allowing his mind to puzzle over his strange dream and Steve's place within it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Steve_**

Steve watches Tony's back as the brunet retreats to his room. Although Tony clearly did not want to talk about it, Steve just _knows_ there's something going on, something Tony won't tell him.

He slowly sits down, on the couch Tony was occupying just a minute ago, and tries to make sense of the situation while absentmindedly rubbing the spot where Tony's head had lain. Tony was dreaming, a nightmare, that's for sure. Now that's no surprise. Steve is no stranger to nightmares himself, having been through several ordeals in his life, and he's seen Tony enter the kitchen still half asleep, with bags under his eyes and messed-up hair, more than once. This time, however, he's _heard_ Tony. Tony has never - or at least, not since Steve moved into Stark Tower with him and the rest of the Avengers - been vocal during a nightmare.

Steve pops a hand under his chin and thinks. Something else was bothering him. Not only had Tony had a nightmare so scary that it had made him call for help, he had called for Steve. And no one else. Could he, maybe...

Steve scoffs and gets up quicker than needed. He will not go over this again. So Tony called him in his sleep, big deal. He could have called anybody, but by sheer coincidence, he'd called Steve. All fine, no issue, goodbye, the end. The blond turns on his heel and stalks back to his own bedroom. He flops onto his bed and turns off the light. Sleep now, and tomorrow, it would be like nothing had happened.

But no matter how hard he tries, Steve cannot fall asleep. He finds himself thinking of Tony again and again, even though he desperately tries not to, until he groans and sits up again, rubbing his tired eyes with his fingers. He has no idea where this sudden... _interest_ in Tony had come from. Yes, so they had grown closer over the mutual enemy fighting, just as was to be expected, but that does not explain why he finds himself thinking of his - obnoxious - teammate at the strangest times. Just like now, when he's thinking of Tony moaning his name and all he wants is to take the brunet in his arms and rock him until he falls back asleep- NO, brain, stop right there, don't you dare go there again, not now!

The blond rolls over and tries to ignore his suddenly pressing problem, but he finds himself too awake to go back to sleep. Then again, with that particular part of his anatomy suddenly having a will of its own, he probably wouldn't even sleep if he were exhausted.

He contemplates getting up and sketching or reading a bit, but it's only 4am by now and he knows tomorrow will bring more meetings and training, so he will need his sleep. And to get sleepy enough to actually _catch_ some more sleep...

Sighing in mock-defeat, he rolls onto his back and reaches down, desperately trying not to think of lively brown eyes and a gentle blue glow as he slips his hand into his boxershorts.

**_Tony_**

Tony awakes the next morning to the sound of laughter. It's a pleasant alarm clock and helps to clear the lingering shadows from his mind.

When he'd finally fallen asleep, at some point during the early morning hours, it had been a restless and broken one. His body still aches with fatigue and he can't halt his yawns as he shoved the covers aside.

The laughter seems to be bleeding through the walls from the kitchen and it sound's like Clint's. Odd, he rarely even smiles, unless it's got something to do with Natasha of course.

Tony smiles to himself and yanks a dark red dressing gown on over his boxers and t-shirt. A bit of rib-nudging with Clint will put the last of his rough night behind him and he's already preparing jabs for him as he exits his room.

He pads down the hall and across the large expanse of floor that serves as a living room, before entering the kitchen. He finds that a bit of teasing is already underway though.

Clint and Natasha are sipping coffee through wicked smiles. Steve is attempting to hide his face in the refrigerator. Whatever the topic of conversation is, it's obviously directed at Steve and he's embarrassed by it. _Very_ embarrassed judging by the strawberry shade of his face.

Deciding he needs a hand Tony steps in "Aw, come on you two." he says as he pour himself a mug of coffee. "Lay off the Cap."

Steve extracts his head from the fridge to shoot him a grateful smile and Tony gives him a conspiratorial wink. This only serves to make the blush reappear. Weird.

"You're being unusually considerate this morning." Natasha observes and shoots Clint a knowing look.

Tony shrugs it off and says "Not really. But teasing Cap is my territory. " Clint lets out a snort at the words but is silenced by a look from Natasha.

Tony continues as if uninterrupted "Can't let you guys have all the fun, before I've even had my first cup of Joe."

Natasha smiles at this and says "Right. Well we'll leave you to the teasing then. But remember we've got a meeting with Director Fury in three hours. And he's expecting that report on the progress of the Asgardian communication device you're working on."

Tony waved her words off and nods "Yeah, yeah, I know. All work, no play." then turns to prepare his breakfast.

Or rather, turns to give Jarvis commands for his breakfast. He suddenly realizes Steve is still there, leaning against the counter, seeming deep in thought.

"Oh, hey Cap. thought you ran off after I saved you from the peanut gallery." he says with a grin, wondering if Steve will understand the reference or if will confuse him as certain phrases of speech still do.

Steve starts at Tony's words and offers a smile "Hmmm? Oh, no - I - Just - um- I'm just going to prep for the meeting." and leaves Tony is a confused silence.

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_**Thank you very much for reading. You can show us your appreciation by leaving a review. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys! Kathson is on holiday right now, so Ninlock is updating this! TBH, we're both a bit stuck on this, but we have a bit more to post here before we run out of chapters. Let's hope we break through our writer's block before that happens :P  
**

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**_Steve_**

Steve is glad that Natasha and Clint leave. He likes them, he really does, but they find teasing him a bit too funny at times and he never fails to get flustered. Then again, he's flustered pretty easily, especially nowadays. The way people talk and act in the 21st century is so... strange. Different from what he's used to.

He's startled when Tony suddenly speaks up. "Oh, hey Cap. thought you ran off after I saved you from the peanut gallery," he says with a grin. Oh God, that grin, that grin that makes Steve's gut wrench, his palms sweaty, his heart flutter. He's seen Tony grin like that before, to Natasha, Bruce, to Ms. Potts, to any lovely dame that caught his eye. But it's also the grin that he's imagined so many times, in the dark between cool sheets, as he presses his face into his pillow, to muffle any moan or whimper he might emit-  
Steve stops himself right there. That is no way to think about his friend, his team-mate, who not only happens to be very snarky and brilliant but also very _very_male and Steve is... well, he's pretty sure he's not into men, has never really been actually. Really.

He realizes Tony is still waiting for an answer and he tries to come up with something to say, but his brain seems to have abandoned him for the moment and he stutters "Oh, no - I - Just - um- I'm just going to prep for the meeting." He turns around quickly and stalks out of the kitchen before Tony can answer him. _Very smooth, Rogers, very well handles indeed._He wills the snarky little voice in his head to shut up, because really, what was he supposed to say? 'Hey, Tony, thank you for saving me from those two, let's make out?' Please.

Steve shakes his head and opens his wardrobe. It's very early to get dressed, but he doesn't have much else to do anyway. He looks at the contents of his wardrobe with no enthousiasm at all, before sighing in defeat and picking out a plain white shirt and blue jeans. There's no need for dressing up anyway.

~oOo~

Steve is bored.

The meeting has been going on for _four_hours, which is quite long, even by S.H.I.E.L.D-standards. A casual glance around the table shows, however, that he's not the only one who seems to think so.

Thor is slumped in his chair, his chin resting on his broad chest and he's snoring ever so slightly - which, Steve thinks, is quite surprising since Thor usually snores like a bear.

Clint has his chin in his hands, his elbows resting on the table and his gaze is casually drifting across the room, pausing at the vent right above his head.

Bruce and Tony seem to be taking notes, but Steve can see from here that they've taken up a game of Hang-Man and Tony is halfway through a word that consists of thee e's, one a and several s'es, muttering in frustration as Bruce draws yet another line.

Even Natasha, who's usually the most attentive of them all, is lazily cleaning her nails with her favorite knife, clearly not paying any attention to the agent who's desperately trying to continue his presentation.

Coulson, who's been watching from the sideline - so to speak - decides the poor young man has been through enough and gestures for him to stop. "I think they've had enough for today, agent. You're all dismissed."

He doesn't have to say it twice. They're up and out of the room before any other agent can call them back. Thor stretches his arms above his head - nearly cuffing Bruce on the head without noticing - and yawns. "I do not believe we have ever had an assembly this tedious. Why does the son of Coul _insist_on us being present every time?"

Steve shrugs. "Well, they _are_important," he starts, only to be interupted by Tony snorting. "What?"

"Important? Four hours of listening to such a newbie isn't important, Cap, it's _torture_. Man, I need more coffee, I can barely keep my eyes open." The brunet shoots Steve another one of those grins and turns away, talking to Bruce about some science-thingy while walking back to his car. Steve watches him go, trying his best to ignore that flutter in his stomach.

A large hand comes to rest on his shoulder and Steve turns around to see Thor staring at him intently. "What?" he says, suddenly feeling very nervous.

The demigod's gaze is serious, but gentle. "Have you told him, good Captain?" he asks and Steve feels his insides grow very, very cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he manages to choke out and he tries to turn away, but Thor's grip tightens just a bit, keeping him where he is.

"I see the way you look him, Captain, as I see the way he looks at you. Why have you not told him about your feelings?" Thor's brow is furrowed with worry, which makes Steve feel even worse, but he can't walk away without Thor coming after him.

"It's nothing, Thor, really. There's nothing to tell him."

"You know that isn't true, Captain." The gentleness and care in Thor's voice are almost uncharacteristic, but also comforting in an odd way, and Steve finds himself relaxing under his gaze. He gives a small shrug.

"I just... I really don't know what to tell him. I mean, it started all of a sudden and it wouldn't go away and I have never felt this for a gent before, really, but it's so _there_and it won't go and I just... I can't tell him, he'll freak out!" Steve babbles on, a wave of emotions he's pushed away for months suddenly breaking free and clawing at his throat in an attempt to finally get out, until Thor squeezes his shoulder and he falls silent again, refusing to meet the demigod's gaze.

"I do not understand, Captain. I thought Midgardians thought of love as a good thing."

"Yeah, well," Steve mutters, trying not to blush _again_, "when a gent loves a dame or the other way around, they do, but..." He cannot bring himself to say it, he just can't, but Thor doesn't need to hear anymore.

"In Asgard, we believe love is not only something between man and woman, Captain. If you love the Iron Man-"

"I don't," Steve mutters, but Thor ignores him,

"- then there is no reason to be ashamed. Love is love, good Captain, and whether you wish to bed a woman or a man is up to you. There's nothing wrong with either."

And with that, he gives Steve's shoulder a final squeeze before walking off as well.

**_Tony_**

"That smile of yours just what I need after a four hour meeting." Tony greets Pepper with a grin, when he finds her in his lab. The damn meeting just seemed to drag on for decades and there wasn't even anything interesting about it.

Just some random data and press release issues and information on new SHIELD agents that they'd probably never meet again. Waste of time in his opinion. He'd managed to play two rounds of Solitaire on his phone before Coulson noticed and shot him daggers. He put it away simply because he knew Coulson would make his life difficult if he disrupted an official meeting.

She lets out an exasperated sigh and waves a folder of papers in his direction, indicating her need for his signature. He rolls his eyes and grabs a pen from his desk, then takes the folders. Project authorizations, bills and invoices all neatly piled, one atop the other and he knows that Pep has piles more where this came from. He's very glad he gave over the CEO position to her. No more bureaucratic bullcrap to bother with. Well almost, no more, just the very important bits that Pep wants him informed on.

As he scribbles out his signature on the dotted lines Pepper reprimands "Tony, I thought we agreed after the break-up that there would be no more flirting." Her hands are on her hips, but her look is more one of long-suffering than vexation. That's a good thing.

Tony signs the last paper with a flourish, flips the folder closed and hands it over, arguing "We didn't agree to anything. You made a request and I'm ignoring it. I flirt with everyone Pep, its my thing." he says with a shrug, then adds for further emphasis " I even flirt with Fury on occasion, course that's mainly to irritate him but-" Pepper cuts into his rambling here

"You don't flirt with Steve." she argues, with a smirk of her own threatening to break through as she flips through the folder to ensure every paper is signed appropriately. He'd been known to sign them as Iron Man before.

Tony stops and gives her a puzzled look, whether it's because he didn't hear her or he wasn't following her point she wasn't sure. "What?" he questions.

"You never flirt with Steve." she repeats allowing herself a grin. Everyone had noticed it, and everyone knew what it meant. Except for Tony obviously.

Tony gives a laugh and says "Okay two things Pep, first off is name is Cap as far as I'm concerned or on the occasion, Capsicle. I mean he doesn't even look like a Steve. Second, it'd freak the guy out. I smile at him and he gets jumpy, Just too old-fashioned for that kind of thing." Tony explains, fiddling with the pen as he does.

"Oh, so now you're being considerate of someone's discomfort? That's new." Pepper challenges with a grin.

Tony throws his arms up in a gesture of exasperation and says in a tone of mock hurt "Why does everyone think I'm a jackass? of course I'm going to be considerate of Cap. The guys been asleep for seventy something years. Plus, he could level me with one swing if I'm not suited up."

"Right, so it's all about self-preservation then?" Pepper says and Tony rolls his eyes.

"Yes, Pep. That's all. Now go run my company, or whatever it is you do all day." he says, waving her away with a hand.

"Uh- _My_company Tony." she corrects, then leaves, her heels clacking on the floor, an air of self-satisfaction lingering after her.

Tony isn't sure what she was on about, with the whole flirting thing, but he makes a note to lay off of Pep for awhile, he wouldn't want to make her mad. She can be damn scary when she's mad.

And what's her point about his flirtation, or lack thereof with Steve? Does she assume he's some sadistic innuendo machine who enjoys watching people squirm and blush from his words. Okay, in all fairness he does, sometimes, but not with his friends.

Steve deserves a break with all he's been through and Tony's willing to give it to him. When did his reputation become one of a callous man?

Sure, he'd done things he wasn't proud of, he'd hurt people. He was belligerent and sarcastic and really not all that great with emotions, but he cared dammit! And caring is the important part isn't it? Even if you have a hard time showing it.

But he recalls his childhood, his absentee father, who never bothered to show up at Tony's science fairs or graduations. Tony knew intellectually he cared, I mean it was his _father_, but he never saw it. Not until after his death anyway.

Was he the same way? Was his snarky exterior that ferociously protected his fears and insecurities, becoming too firm of a shield? It was originally intended to keep things from leaking out, but had it grown to the point of keeping important things from being allowed in?

Tony tries to shove the thoughts from his mind and says "Jarvis, put on some AC/DC. It's too quiet in here." and sets to work on a complicated formula as the guitars start up. He remains in the lab for the rest of the afternoon.

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**Reviews lift our spirits! :P**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello dear readers! Kathson here, updating. We've kicked our writers block on this for now and hopefully it stays that way! We'll have another update for you sometime next week. In the meantime – Enjoy!**_

**Steve**

Steve spends the rest of the afternoon in his room, lying on his bed with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Thor's words keep on repeating in the back of his head, even though he's tried to ignore them. He tried to distract himself by sketching for a bit, but when he realized he was sketching Tony – and that infernal grin of his – he throws his sketchbook against the wall in frustration.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he presses his face into his pillow, groaning. He briefly brushes off these feelings as being only a phase, but then again, a guy doesn't jerk off to the thought of his best friend for five months and still calls it a phase.

Steve rolls over again, suddenly feeling very restless. Rubbing his face with a sigh, he sits up slowly. Thor is right, he realizes. Whenever Steve looks at Tony, he can't help smiling, his stomach starts to do flip-flops and his hands get shaky and sweaty. He won't go as far as saying he's in love, though. Maybe… smitten is a more accurate name for his condition.

Great. Not only did he manage to get feelings for his best friend, said best friend also a self-proclaimed genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. And, whispers a voice in his head, he happens to be a MAN and you don't like men. Steve shakes his head. In his time, he might have been shunned for being attracted to another man, but in this time, the 21st century, being… gay– he shudders a bit at the word – is much more accepted, if not embraced. No, he has more problems with the 'playboy'part of Tony than anything else.

And then, he does not know if Tony actually likes men in general. If he were sure, he would – maybe, if he could muster up the courage – try and ask Tony out, but he isn't sure…

Steve gets up from his bed and paces around. Staying cooped up in here only makes him more restless. He almost wishes for something to happen – Loki returning, Doctor Doom coming up with another scheme, anything – just to stop him from thinking of Tony for a while. But there is nothing, no alarm sounding, no villain suddenly barging into his room or destroying the city. Nothing to distract him from his own thoughts.

With another heavy sigh, Steve walks towards his wardrobe and grabs a worn pair of sweatpants and a white shirt. He doesn't really feel like going to the gym, but staying here, alone with his thoughts, will only make him more anxious, and he can't afford being anxious around Tony right now.

Steve stills, his shirt just over his head. This morning, in the kitchen… he was halfway through a very nice fantasy about pushing Tony down onto the countertop, pulling up his shirt and kissing his way down that beautiful chest, Tony panting beneath him… He cuts himself off, just like Tony did this morning, telling himself yet again that he can't think about his teammate that way. He grabs his bag and leaves his room.

_**~oOo~**_

The sound of his fists hitting the leather punching bag over and over is quite calming. Steve clenches his teeth and keeps on hitting, even though he's so sweaty he discarded his shirt more than an hour ago and his knuckles are starting to protest. He has to distract himself, by any means, and if he has to bruise his knuckles in the process…

As if to make a point, Steve starts to punch harder, focusing on the punching bag, trying not to think of anyone, not of Tony, not of Tony, not of Tony-

The chains that hold the punching bag suddenly creak alarmingly, before giving in after Steve delivers one last punch and the bag is sent flying through the gym, smacking against the wall and sliding down. Steve emits a sound that is something between a groan and a shout, before turning around to grab another punching bag off the enormous pile in the corner.

Just as he lifts another punch bag over his shoulder and attaches the chains to the large hook on the ceiling, he hears the door open behind him. He pays no attention to it, nor does he react to the footsteps when whoever entered the gym approaches him. What does make him look up, however, is the sound of someone inhaling sharply, as if surprised.

Tony is there, staring at him with wide eyes, and suddenly Steve is very aware of the fact that he's not wearing a T-shirt. The brunet's eyes travel down Steve's chest, drinking in the sight, making Steve feel both embarrassed and – although he will not admit it – oddly excited. Tony sucks in his lower lip and looks up, looking Steve in the eye.

**Tony**

Tony wasn't sure why he'd offered to fetch Steve.

Clint wanted to start up a poker game and was going to check with Steve and Bruce to see if they wanted in. Tony mentioned that they were at opposite ends of the Tower and said he'd grab Steve from the gym.

He didn't miss the smug grins Pepper and Natasha exchanged, but he just ignored them.

Something was definitely up with the Team, as if they thought he was hiding a secret or something. He isn't really sure what it is, but the knowing glances and laughter ill disguised as coughs are getting on his nerves.

He strolls from the room and heads down the long hallway to the gym at the other end.

Before Cap came around it rarely got any use. Tony was the sort who always managed to stay in shape without much effort. And he had little need to practice boxing techniques since he's got a suit that could level a small town if he so chose.

But Steve spends most of his spare time there and the dull whump! whump! of his fists hitting the bag can often be heard in the common area. Along with the occasional heavy creak and thud of another bag breaking off the chain.

Tony keeps meaning to work on an unbreakable chain so he doesn't have to replace the bag so often. Not to mention the patches Toy has to put on the ceiling because of it.

But really he doesn't mind. The guy needs an outlet for his frustrations and a punching bag is one of the better options. Then again he's not the sort to take to drinks or women.

He pushes the door open, and saunters in, opening his mouth to call out _"Hey Cap, up for some cards?"_

But the words lodge in his throat when he actually catches sight of Steve.

He's hefting a fresh bag onto his shoulder, to replace the one that Tony realizes must've just gone flying. He moves with ease and grace, toned muscles rippling as he hooks it onto the chain with a skill that suggests he has done so a thousand times before. He probably has.

Tony sucks in a sharp breath as he watches Steve's shoulder blades rising and falling with the motion of his movements. The smooth, tanned skin seems to mock him and he is momentarily thankful when Steve turns to face him.

He's not sure why he felt relief because the front is worse than the back.

Firm, sculpted muscles, and a broad chest greet his eyes, slick with sweat. He tells himself to back off, to say _something_, _anything_ and stop staring like a schoolgirl.

But the shock of it all keeps his eyes fixed. He knew the Cap was in good shape, had to be in order to serve on the Team. He knew he was a super soldier and built like a statue.

But his form was always covered, with a T-shirt, his suit, something.

Somehow he couldn't quite equate the shy, awkward, pure-hearted Steve with this sensual form. He was damn attractive, Tony suddenly realized with a jolt that sent his head spinning.

Not that he'd never found a man attractive before. He'd done his fair share of experimenting at college. Men, women, didn't matter to him. So long as they were attractive and intelligent he was happy.

And it suddenly strikes him that Steve meets those criteria perfectly. Firm square jaw, softened by blue eyes. Short blond hair, and yes, Tony has always had a soft spot for blondes.

He's also surprisingly good at math and a total bookworm. Tony was often thrown for a loop at some of Steve's observations and opinions. If he wasn't 70 some-odd years behind on things he'd be one of the smarter guys Tony had known.

"Tony?" Steve questions, breaking the tense silence.

His voice snaps Tony back from his thoughts and the world seems to right itself.

"Damn, Cap. If you ever get tired of saving the world you should be an underwear model or something." Tony snarks with a laugh and it has the desired effect of making Steve blush and turn away.

He digs in his bag for a shirt and when he finds one, draws it over his head.

Tony isn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. So he simply tries for an easy smile and says "Some of the Team are starting a poker game. You in?"

_**Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming!**_


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